him to arrest us. After all, we didn't know you were wanted when you left. But over the winter, old Lord Raedel fell ill.'
'They say he hasn't risen from his bed in two months or more,' Shiela added.
'So Phoros is the lord of Maerchlin now?' Aeron asked.
Eriale nodded. 'Not in name, but he's the heir, and he's serving as regent until his father gets better.'
'If he ever does,' Shiela observed.
'The very day his father agreed to relinquish his powers to Phoros, he drafted a warrant for Kestrel's arrest, and mine as well. Aiding a felon, obstructing the law, seditious speech, conspiracy to rebellion … I didn't know he could think of so many charges!' Eriale paled and her voice grew small. 'So Father and I were thrown into the dungeons.'
Aeron snorted. 'Raedel's nothing but a bloodthirsty brigand! He can't use his father's laws to pursue his own vendetta against me.'
Shiela frowned. 'King Gereax in Oslin came down on his side thirteen years ago, Aeron. The castle's guardsmen are the only law in Maerchlin. You should know that by now.'
The young mage spat a curse. 'I'm sorry, Eriale. Did they. . were they rough with you?'
She shook her head. 'Some of the guards would say things to me, but no one ever touched me.'
'Why did they let you go?'
Eriale shook her head. 'I don't know.'
Aeron thought about the news. What could he do to help Kestrel? Could he spirit the forester out of the dungeons with magic? If he did, Kestrel would be no better off than Aeron was. As an escaped prisoner, he'd have to flee Maerchlin, too. What if he turned himself in? Phoros would have no reason to hold Kestrel-well, nothing save spite, he reminded himself-but Aeron's own life would almost certainly be forfeit. Aeron even considered the possibility of circumventing both Raedel and Gereax to appeal directly to Gormantor, the Overking in Akanax, but he couldn't begin to imagine how he might do that.
Outside, he heard the clattering approach of a number of horsemen. Animals nickered and snorted, stamping the hard earth of the farmyard. Aeron frowned, puzzled. Why would so many riders be coming to see Toric at one time? Unless. . soldiers. The lord's men! He leapt to his feet, seeking escape. 'Phoros Raedel didn't let you out of prison to show his generosity. He let you out to see if you would lead him to me!'
Eriale groaned. 'It makes sense. And I did exactly what Raedel wanted me to. Oh, Aeron!'
'Surround the house! The boy's inside!' Through the oilskin windows, Aeron could see the dark shapes of guardsmen racing for the door, six or seven at least. He thought desperately. There was no place to hide, and Raedel's men already covered both doors.
'Eriale, Shiela, cooperate. Tell them anything they want to know,' he hissed. Then, raising his hand and dusting himself with a pinch of pure white sand, he brought the mystic symbol of the charm of invisibility to his mind. The Weave streamed through him, electrifying his senses. With a word, the world around him seemed to become gray and mist-wreathed, as if he viewed it through a dark glass.
'Aeron! Where did you go?' Eriale cried. At that instant, mailed swordsmen kicked in both the front and back doors of Shiela's cottage, storming into the room with their blades ready. More streamed in behind them, ransacking the place, overturning furniture, tearing down every hanging or curtain that could possibly conceal a slender young man.
Aeron whirled, avoiding contact with the enraged soldiers and barely escaping a fatal collision. At the sergeant's command, two guardsmen dragged Shiela and Eriale out into the farmyard, blades at their throats. Aeron used the opportunity to slip outside just behind them, while the rest of the soldiers continued to wreck Shiela's home. Just outside, the young Lord Miroch sat atop his horse, eyes glittering with anticipation. 'I thought it a waste of my time to watch the lass, but it looks like Phoros's plan has worked,' he remarked. 'Where's Aeron?'
'Here are the women, m'lord. There's no sign of the boy,' growled the sergeant.
'What? There must be!' Miroch roared. 'Search again!' The sergeant nodded and ducked back inside to supervise the efforts of his men. Aeron moved slowly to one side, holding his breath. There were soldiers all around, but none even glanced in his direction; he was safe for the moment, but Eriale and Shiela were held securely by Raedel's men.
After a long moment, the sergeant stomped back outside. 'There's no sign of him, m'lord. I'm certain of it.' The sergeant spread his hands. 'We saw him enter and watched the house closely. I don't know how he got out.'
Miroch scowled and turned his gaze to Eriale. 'Where's Aeron? We know he was here!'
Eriale cried out in pain as the soldier holding her knotted one hand in her hair and twisted savagely. 'I don't know!' she gasped. 'He used magic to disappear!'
'What kind of nonsense is that?' Miroch roared. 'Phoros will have my head if I let Aeron escape!' He glared at his prisoners and narrowed his eyes. 'Fine. Burn the house!'
'No!' shrieked Shiela. 'It's my home!'
With two quick steps, the leader of the guardsmen reached Shiela. He smashed her to the ground with his mailed fist. Shiela collapsed, bleeding in the dry brown earth. Aeron stood transfixed by horror, watching as the guards abandoned their search and set torches to the cottage's roof. Black smoke streamed into the sky.
'Miroch, you can't do this!' Eriale wailed. 'You have no right! Shiela hasn't harmed anyone!'
The stocky lord tore his gaze from the billowing flames and locked his eyes on Eriale's face. 'Where is Aeron?'
'By Assuran, I don't know! Far from here by now, I hope!' Eriale struggled against the guard who pinned her.
'How did he escape?'
'I told you, he used magic!'
Miroch sneered. 'That wretched lout has mastered sorcery? Think of a better lie than that!' The burly nobleman sneered at Eriale. 'Perhaps you need more encouragement,' he said, licking his lips. 'Strip her.'
The guard holding her shot a disapproving look at the lord, but set his jaw and seized the homespun dress, tearing it from Eriale's shoulders. Miroch swung down from his horse and swaggered forward.
Aeron understood what kind of encouragement Miroch had in mind. With a loud cry, he sprinted forward, knife in hand. Guards whirled, searching for the source of the shout. Aeron reached the man holding Eriale and slashed his face. The guard screamed and reeled away, holding his hands to his lacerated jaw.
And the strange, dim haze that cloaked Aeron's vision began to brighten as full daylight returned. His assault on the guard had broken the spell. He was becoming visible again!
'There he is!' shouted Miroch. He drew his slender sword from its sheath and charged forward. The other men of the detail drew their own blades and advanced.
Toric's house was a mass of flames now, and the heat smothered Aeron. He glanced wildly about, faced with steel on all sides, and suddenly he knew with absolute certainty what to do. He pressed his hands together and summoned the image of fire hand to his mind, reaching out through the Weave to grasp the turbulent flames that danced and leapt in the burning house behind him.
A great jet of scorching red flames exploded from his hands, engulfing Miroch from the waist up. Aeron held the jet on the lord for only a moment, then slewed it around to drive back the guardsmen. Miroch shrieked and staggered away, his puffed coat burning like oil-soaked tinder. The guards in their mail fared better, but the blast of heat singed faces and hands. Most were incapacitated for a moment. As the jet of flame played out, Aeron reached down to seize Eriale's hand and bolted for the safety of the forest. The girl stumbled in shock, trying to cover herself with her torn dress, but she found the wits to stretch out her legs and match Aeron's pace. Behind them, Lord Miroch toppled and fell in a blazing heap.
'Aeron! Where are you going?' Eriale panted.
'I've got to get you away from here!' he answered. 'You can stay with me in the forest. Come on!'
Instead, Eriale slowed and stopped, wrenching her hand back. 'No, Aeron. I can't come with you.'
Aeron halted, panting. The guards were mounting their horses, shouting and cursing, but they had a two- hundred-yard lead. 'Come on! They'll be upon us in a moment!'
Eriale wrapped her arms around her torso and backed away from Aeron. 'What have you become, Aeron? You-you killed Miroch. You've murdered a lord.'
